


Tinker, Tailor, Centaur, Faun

by amidtheflowers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Crack, Eventual Smut, F/M, Humor, Mild Angst, Post-Canon, Ragnarok compliant - Freeform, Romance, Slow Build, crack with feelings, exploration of space cultures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-06 07:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12812616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: She doesn't understand the sulking, not on Loki's end. Then again, she's only known him for two days—give or take a few years on the news."I don't know why you're being so stubborn," Darcy says, crossing her arms. "You have a solution. Use it.""This," Loki gestures angrily at himself, "isnota solution."





	1. A Little More Thrust

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooooo, my darlings!
> 
> So, like many of us, I watched Thor: Ragnarok. Have watched it a few times now. And I came out of it so excited about the Thor universe and the characters, but most of all, I came back with a lot of inspiration for Loki and Darcy. So, here I am! I didn't think I'd write for this ship again, but never say never, right? ;)
> 
> This fic started with a discussion I had with [leftennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant) about Ragnarok and certain magical creatures, so here this fic is. She will probably hate me for this a bit because I actually did the thing, but it's worth the risk. :P
> 
> This then escalated as I discussed with my beautiful friend and beta [Sigridhr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigridhr/works), who bounced ideas with me and has been the best beta and support system with this fic. It seems only fitting that when we parted ways with tasertricks together a few years ago, we'd come back to it in full swing together as well ;) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Feedback is very much welcome :) xx

**-:-**

**Chapter 1:** A Little More Thrust

**-:-**

Darcy Lewis, still seated in the rental car she got five hours ago, taps her fingernails against the steering wheel and squints into the distance. A single, rectangular business card rests between her fingers, and her eyes flicker from the card to an oddly-shaped archway standing in the middle of the field of grass. She can hear the sound of the ocean where it rolls beneath the cliff—the long, winding cliff face that she has been driving up to for two of the five hours.

Licking her lips, Darcy heaves sigh. “Well alright, then.”

Darcy pops open the door, jumping out of the car and glancing around the vast field of green. It is not cold, oddly enough—there seems to be a warm presence surrounding her, like walking into a warm building from a snowstorm and feeling that immediate, buzzing relief that sends warm tingles along her fingertips and toes.

As she approaches the stone archway—a relic from long ago, crumbling in ruins and probably beautiful in its former glory—Darcy fiddles with the business card and narrows her eyes.

Darcy clears her throat. “I’m here?”

The only sign of reply is the ocean roiling loudly down below.

Darcy sucks in a breath and crosses her arms. “I got your card. You know, the one that showed up in my toaster when I took out my toast? And the one that was stuck in the drain of my shower? That was gross, by the way. Don’t do that again, whoever did… that. Just poof your magic cards on my kitchen table like a normal person.”

When no response comes, Darcy’s eyes widen and she straightens quickly. “Oh! Right, sorry.” Darcy places the business card at the foot of the archway. Reaching towards the crumbling stone, Darcy knocks on it in a two-four-three sequence, and waits.

She nearly startles when a deep voice reverberates from the archway.

“Name?”

Darcy recalls what the card had told her to say, and straightens her shoulders. “Darcy Lewis,” she says. The archway seems to be waiting, and Darcy reluctantly continues. “The l…lady of lightning who bested the King of Asgard.”

The card shimmers and disappears, and in its place is a tall, towering black man with golden eyes and little half smile as he watches her mouth drop.

“Welcome, Darcy Lewis. Step through the archway, please.”

He watches patiently as Darcy snaps her mouth shut, fighting off a furious blush and nodding shortly.

“I’m not gonna melt into a puff of dust once I walk through, am I?” Darcy attempts a wry smile. The man gives a half-shrug.

“If you are who you say you are, then you’ve nothing to fear.”

 _That_ strikes a chord of fear through her. Darcy suspects if she were actually, genuinely lying about her identity, she wouldn’t be so dissimilar from the sand that lay at the foot of the cliff.

“Right. You’re Heimdall, right? The one Thor’s always called to when he needed to get back home?”

“The very same.”

“Cool. Cool cool.” Holding her breath, Darcy hesitantly walks through the archway. The second she crosses it, the world shimmers around her—revealing a burst of color and sound like a rush of people talking in the distance, all where there was once nothing but barren land.

“Hooly shit.”

“Asgard welcomes you,” Heimdall says, allowing her a moment to take in the sight before her. Hundreds of people walk before her, little homes set up where not fifteen seconds ago there had been nothing. A whole civilization hidden from the world, and Darcy has just walked through it.

“God, I have so many questions.” Her eyes narrow at a large blue…rectangle box at the cliff edge. “Is that a spaceship? An Asgardian spaceship?”

“Not Asgardian, but yes,” Heimdall agrees. “They’re waiting for you inside.”

“You’re staying here?”

Heimdall gives her another smile, and if Darcy had pearls to clutch she’d be doing exactly that. “I have duties to attend to.”

Darcy nods and returns her focus to the spaceship. She passes strange, conical homes and shimmery metals that Darcy hasn’t seen before, piquing her interest. A few turn to stare at her as she walks by them, offering her tentative smiles which Darcy heartily returns.

Distant sounds of shouting erupt as Darcy approaches the spaceship. She pauses in her next step. She _knows_ that voice, that shrill tone, and the impending—

The ship doors fly open and out bursts Jane Foster, her face pink with annoyance. Ah, yes. _That_ face with _that_ tone and the inevitable storming away. Darcy wonders which poor soul had pissed her off this time.

Jane stops dead when she sees Darcy. Darcy smiles and waves her fingers. “Surpriiise, I’m here a day early.”

“Oh thank god, finally someone competent,” Jane mutters, grabbing Darcy by the arm and dragging her inside the spaceship.

“Good to see you too,” Darcy says dryly, following after Jane. “It’s been what, four, five months?”

“Hmm?”

Darcy sighs. “Who fucked up this time? Did someone mess with the flux capacitor again?”

“Field carbonator, and _no_. The problem is _some_ people are not willing to accept that technology here on earth works a little differently and takes _longer_ to do things they normally could’ve done in a second on an alien planet.”

“Is this why you called me?” Darcy stops, putting her hands on her hips and staring at Jane. “Jane, for the last time.”

“I—no, _no_ , I didn’t call you to fix things,” Jane looks flustered, smoothing her hands over her blouse. “Not…not _just_ to fix things. It’s your time off, right?”

“So you have been reading my emails.”

A guilty look creeps on Jane’s face. “I’m sorry I haven’t responded, it’s just—it’s been—”

“It’s fine, honestly,” Darcy waves it off. “I just didn’t expect seeing you call for me through magical business card, that’s all.”

“That was Thor’s idea,” Jane admits, and an irritated look returns on her face. “He didn’t want any outside interference, in case someone tapped your phone. I mean, did you hear what happened with Captain America?”

“Bummer,” Darcy nods, sadly; she can smell a conspiracy a mile away, and _that_ whole debacle reeked of government corruption. “So wait, are you and Thor…?”

“God, no,” Jane shakes her head. “He called in a favor and I’m…helping?”

“Uh huh. So what’s the deal here,” Darcy glances around the spaceship dubiously. “I’m guessing something happened to Asgard, you got dragged into it?”

Before Jane can open her mouth and explain, Thor enters the main hall and catches Darcy’s eye. He smiles widely as Darcy takes him in, and she shares his glee.

“Shit, dude. What happened to your hair? I _like_ it.” Darcy offers Thor a hug which he takes in stride, nearly lifting her off her feet. When he releases her Darcy reaches up to see where parts of Thor’s hair has been shaved in strips, giving him an edge.

“A creepy old man with scissors cut it all off.” Thor shrugs. “Darcy, it is good to see you.”

“What happened? Did something happen to Asgard?”

A look of sadness creeps in his eye, but Thor simply gives Darcy a tight smile. “My home planet is no more. We’re in search for a new home for my people, and for now we’re staying here until we find some place more agreeable.”

Darcy blinks in surprise. “I’m so sorry. Is that why…?” Darcy vaguely points at her own left eye, mirroring his right. Thor smiles kindly.

“Yes. All is well now, I promise. Do not worry over me.”

“How can I help? You guys called me here for a reason, right?”

“You know a code for the Bifröst machine, no?” says Thor.

Jane steps in front of Thor. “It’s the Bridge. I’m not—the formula isn’t overcoming the time lapse between jumps and is using twice the energy than initially proposed. Do you remember what you did last time to make it work?”

A slow smile spreads on Darcy’s face. “You called me for a science thing?”

“Darcy.”

“Because if you did, I will have to record this.”

“ _Darcy_.”

“For future reference, you know.”

“This really isn’t the time for this.”

“Not at all,” Darcy says as she shrugs easily and she pulls out her phone, “but photographic evidence is still required.”

Jane rolls her eyes, a smile threatening to break over her face. “I need you to look at the generator. The others can’t crack it and I’ve stared at the formula for so long none of it makes sense to me anymore.”

“You know, you could really have asked for the glitch fix in an email and I would’ve sent it to you.”

Jane purses her lips and glances away. “I could’ve…but I wanted you here. In person.”

“Because you miiiiissed me,” Darcy sings, and Thor chuckles.

“I did,” Jane reaches over and finally embraces Darcy. Darcy closes her eyes and holds her tight, feeling as if something clicks in place between them. “It hasn’t been the same since you left.”

“Who knew, right? I should’ve gone back and done a real science major.”

“You have finished your previous schooling?” Thor asks Darcy.

“Yep, two years ago. I just started on my Ph.D.” A sly smile breaks across Darcy’s face. “You’ll get a real kicker out of what my thesis is.”

“And that’s enough of that,” Jane interrupts hastily, taking to linking arms with Darcy and directing her to the other end of the ship with Thor trailing behind, watching after them with quiet amusement.

“I’m still not your intern,” Darcy warns as they approach Jane’s work area. It’s haphazard, as usual—notes flung on every surface of the table and riddled with coffee ring stain, tools spread out across the floor in no particular order, and a blanket curled into the back end of the ship.

“I know,” Jane replies. “Generator’s over there.”

Darcy squints. “The pile of rocks?”

“I don’t think so,” the pile of rocks replies.

Darcy gasps when the rocks begin moving, straightening into a very large lumpy figure. He’s smiling brightly at her and gives a friendly wave.

“I’m Korg,” he says, his tone light and mild-mannered and not at all what she expects. “As you’ve noticed, I’m made of rocks but there’s no need to be afraid.”

“Korg is a Kronan from the planet Ria,” Thor explains, smiling at Korg with a look of gentle affection that shows a deeper history than the surface shows.

“Though I do have an uncle on Vanaheim,” Korg offers. “I would very much like to see him again, as it is. Imagine how shocked he will be when he sees I’m alive!”

“Good to meet you, Korg. Let’s see if we can get that ball rolling.” Darcy saunters around the notes and tools to where Jane’s Einstein-Rosen Bridge generator stands. Rolling up her sleeves, Darcy turns to Jane. “And you said the problem was it can’t reload between jumps?”

“Yes. It takes 60 hours between jumps,” Jane watches as Darcy kneels on the floor and opens the back of the generator.

“…When it should be 60 seconds. Got it.”

“You see?” Darcy hears Thor say to Jane. “Asking Darcy to come revisit your calculations proved fruitful.”

“It was that or keep listening to you insist that if I just believed hard enough, the generator would work.”

“Is this what you two were arguing about when I got here?” Darcy asks as she checks the calculations on the digital screen. Biting her lip, Darcy’s eyes scan over the numbers… something definitely seems off…

“We were not arguing, it was a squabble,” Thor assures, his voice bordering uncomfortable. “A squablet, if you will.”

“You’re worse than my divorced parents and that is saying something.” Darcy purses her mouth as she taps on the screen, scrolling through the calculations. In the distance, she hears soft footsteps enter the room, growing closer until they stop by Thor.

“The people are growing restless,” a soft voice says quietly, one Darcy has not heard before. “We cannot stay here much longer, brother.”

Darcy’s eyes go wide.

“There is nothing to worry about, Loki. We’ve summoned technical assistance!”

Darcy pops her head up from the generator and sees exactly what she expected—Loki of Asgard, whose face she had seen on a laptop in Tromsø. Though notably less bloodthirsty. “Darcy,” she introduces herself. Loki says nothing, merely raising an eyebrow at her. It is as much of a greeting she is to get, Darcy supposes, and returns to the calculations.

“You’re stalling,” Loki says, and Thor bristles. “I know you are fond of Midgard, but you know we cannot stay. This planet is already inhabited at full capacity and…has long memory. My magic cannot protect us forever.”

“You propose we ask our people to pack their things and suffer another eight months aboard a spaceship?” Thor counters. “They need this, Loki, they need to feel the open air, not the cold, filtered air of space. We put our people to risk by taking them planet by planet—what if the kings and lords of those planets do not take our presence with neutrality? They can kill all of Asgard in one fell swoop. Right now Asgard needs a place to stay while you and I seek diplomacy among the realms.”

“Thor—”

“Which is why we’ve been using Jane Foster’s Bifröst machine to travel realms, as we always have,” Thor continues firmly. “It is only a matter of time it will be fixed.”

“Do you honestly believe _she_ can fix a problem not even my magic or the relics of Asgard can fix?” Loki snaps, eyeing Darcy with a cold look of indifference.

“I dunno, mate, I think she knows what she’s doing,” Korg says encouragingly. Loki gives him a glare.

Rolling her eyes, Darcy punches in the code and hears the generator whirl. Wiping her hands on her jeans, Darcy stands back up as Jane rushes towards the machine. Jane lets out a yelp of triumph.

“You did it! What did you doo-oohh.” Jane scratches her head as she squints at the digital screen. “You increased thrust.”

“I increased thrust,” Darcy agrees, and glances at Thor before settling pointedly on Loki. “You’re welcome.”

Loki’s mouth twitches.

“There you have it,” Thor claps Darcy gently on the back before turning to Loki. “Shall we?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Alright! Uncle Gilg will be so pleased to see his nephew so soon. They made a wager,” Korg explains, “that either I’d die on Sakaar or I’d escape the planet in 500 years. Beat both those odds, didn’t I?”

“What’s Sakaar?” Darcy frowns.

Thor clears his throat loudly, shifting his weight. “I’ll explain later. Jane?”

Jane starts up the Bifröst machine and points to where Loki, Thor, and Korg should take position. “Remember, when you need to come back you _have_ to call. Use the phone and call and I’ll get you guys back,” Jane tells them, and they nod.

“Like old times, eh?” Darcy says to Thor, watching with fascination as rainbow colors begin flashing around him. This part never seems to get old.

“Just so,” Thor replies, smiling lightly. Then, with a rush of flickering light, Thor, Loki, and Korg disappear.

Jane and Darcy are left standing alone in the room, listening to the generator whirl to a stop.

“So,” Darcy stuffs her hands in her back pockets. “Five months.”

Jane closes her eyes. “Darcy…”

“I get it. It’s just—you dropped everything to come help Thor and—and Asgard. And I can tell you’re really over. Like, over-over. You’re not fishing for an in.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“Which kind of makes it worse, Jane. That makes it worse because you went off the grid without telling me. It was weird, okay?”

“You know how the job is,” Jane sighs, leaning heavily against the work table. “I had to keep quiet, even from you.”

“Jane…”

“And it was shitty. It was, and you have enough going on as it is—”

“Jane.”

“And I just didn’t want to drag you into something you’d left long ago.”

“Jane!”

“What?”

Darcy points at the Bifröst machine. “Is that supposed to blink at this point?”

Jane’s eyes widen. “They’re calling. They want to come back. That was fast.”

“Where did they go again?”

“Some place on Vanaheim, or at least I think that’s what Thor said.” Jane checks her watch. “I guess it’s been over sixty seconds, so…” Jane leans down and punches in a few numbers and pulls the lever, and suddenly the room is flooded with colorful light flashing against the ship’s walls.

When the light dies down, and all that are left is the five of them, Darcy opens her eyes.

And promptly drops her jaw.

“Oh. My. God.”

Thor, God of Thunder and Lightning, the former crown prince of Asgard and present King of Asgard, the alien Avenger who has saved Earth a dozen times over, now stands inside Jane’s lab over seven feet tall with…hooves.

Four of them, to be exact.

Darcy’s eyes skip to the tall man beside him who is openly weeping into his hands. Leather straps wind across his chest and guard his arm, though massively ill-fitting on his lean build. “Who’s that?”

“Don’t look,” the man sniffles, dropping his hands slightly to reveal two very watery eyes and a quivering lip. His voice gives Darcy pause, and her eyes widen incredulously.

“ _Korg?_ ”

“Do not be alarmed, t’is but a spell gone awry,” Thor explains as he walks away from the generator and the weeping, humanoid Korg. The floor goes clip-clop in his steps, and Jane exclaims, “ _You’re a centaur!_ ”

“Aye, that I am,” Thor replies, an easy smile on his lips. “And Loki…”

“Speak another _word_ and I murder you,” Loki hisses, hands clenched into fists and feet…feet also donned with two hooves.

“Faun,” Darcy says, and bursts out into laughter.


	2. A Hooved Space Oddity

**-:-**

**Chapter Two:** A Hooved Space Oddity

**-:-**

Several things happen, and they happen something like this.

Luckily for Darcy, _‘speak another word and I murder you_ ’ is only applicable to Thor, but the look of absolute, unadulterated fury when Darcy begins laughing is one permanently burned in her skull and not one she ever wants to revisit. Her mouth promptly closes, and she exchanges a look with Jane.

Unfortunately for everyone else, Thor speaks anyway.

“Why are you so angry?” Thor frowns at Loki, shifting uneasily. “It is only a little bit of trickery. You have to admit, they’re quite charming.”

“Only a bit of trickery?” Loki’s eyes blaze with fury, and he draws up to Thor until they are only a hairsbreadth away. Darcy imagines this would be typically more intimidating if Thor did not tower over Loki in his new centaur form. “Is this why you did not call for retreat? Because they were using _sorcery_ instead of weapons?”

“Loki, you have shapeshifted yourself and others countless times,” Thor shakes his head. “This is no different. Why is this upsetting you?”

“This is _not_ simple sorcery,” Loki snarls. “I told you we should leave, that we were not welcome, and you risked all of our lives—this, _this_ is why you were never fit for king, this was Jotunheim _all over again_.”

Thor’s face darkens, electricity sparking from his fingertips and crackling around his head.

“I had to give every chance I could for our people, Loki, you know this. This spell was not the act of Vanaheim, but of a few who were angry—”

“Yes, where you conveniently forgot to mention that on your last trip to Vanaheim you had murdered their people!”

“I did _not—_ I assumed you knew about that battle!”

“Why the hell would I know this?”

It is Thor’s turn to scoff. “Was it not the job of the king of Asgard to review all diplomatic endeavors, or did your last four years as a false king give you the impression it was for theater and silken bathrobes?”

“Believe me, Thor, the number of idiotic _endeavors_ you’ve been gallivanting on these last four years has been beyond count and memory.”

“Now you are being cruel,” Thor growls.

“I don’t care, you should have warned us,” Loki hisses. “We should never have gone.”

“For the last time it was a small uprising from the Northern rebellion, they surrendered when I defeated their Kronan fighter!”

“You killed a Kronan on Vanaheim?” Korg abruptly stops sniffling, blinking widely at Thor. “Did you…you didn’t kill my Uncle Gilg did you, mate?”

Thor pauses, his face turning slightly pale as he shifts his weight on his hooves. “Uh…” He glances at Loki. “You’ve made your point, brother. We’ll continue this argument later. Just undo the spell for now and let us move on to more important matters.”

Loki’s face turns purple with rage.

“HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LISTENING, YOU APPALLING OAF! I CANNOT UNDO THIS MAGIC, WE ARE _CURSED!_ ”

Thor falters, and for the first time since their return from Vanaheim, he looks uncertain. Darcy bites her lip, feeling uncomfortable at having witnessed what looked like a family matter deeply rooted in resentment and miscommunication. They’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other.

Jane and Darcy startle when a woman with a sword drawn bursts through the door. Her gaze flickers over Jane and Darcy, and Darcy immediately catches the white markings trace around the bottom of her eyelids. The woman’s attention jumps to Thor, Loki, and Korg next. Her eyes bulge out, and the sword begins to lower.

A man follows in behind the warrior woman, looking uneasy as he wrings his hands. “We heard shouting, what’s—?” He stops dead. Eyes wide and jaw dropped, the man vaguely points between all three of them.

Darcy leans in a little towards them. “Long story short, the Vanaheim mission didn’t go well.”

The warrior woman’s gaze snaps at Darcy, and her eyes narrow a bit. “You the tinkerer?”

“The what?”

“The one they asked Heimdall to call? You fix that thing there?” The woman points her sword at the generator.

Darcy follows her gaze and nods slowly. “I did.”

The woman nods once and looks away, as if dismissing her as a threat and focusing on Thor, Loki, and Korg. “Right, so. What’s happened here?”

Loki’s jaw tightens, and with a billowing flare of his green and gold cloak, he storms out of the room. Thor closes his eyes and sighs, pressing his fingers against his eyelids. It is Korg who ends up stepping forward, gripping his loosely falling armor and leather trousers and awkwardly hobbling towards them.

“Hello Valkyrie, Bruce. We went to Vanaheim and a few space wizards cursed us. It was quite the spectacle, actually.”

“How, how could this have happened?” Bruce shakes his head, bewildered. “I thought this Vanaheim liked us, don’t they like us?”

“Have you been crying?” Valkyrie tilts her head at Korg. He nods sadly.

Thor gives a great sigh and walks over to them. “They do. As we were speaking with their council, a small group of rebels ambushed us. They were using magic; Loki fought them off. Valiantly,” Thor adds, and he lowers his gaze.

“But it wasn’t enough,” Jane says quietly.

Thor says nothing, lost deep in thought. Darcy moves her attention to Bruce, and suddenly her whole demeanor snaps into attention.

“I’m sorry, wait—are you Dr. Bruce Banner?”

For a second Bruce does a striking impression of a deer caught in headlights. He glances at Jane then back to Darcy and, very tentatively, replies, “Um…maybe?”

Darcy looks at Jane. “ _Jane_. How are you even functioning right now?”

Jane clears her throat, suddenly very flustered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.” Darcy returns her attention to Bruce. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I’ve read a truly stupid amount of your published research papers; you are kind of amazing.”

This makes him brighten. “Oh?”

“Yep.”

“You, ah, you’re a biochemist too?”

Jane snorts, and Darcy shoots her a dark look. “Nope, just Jane’s ex-intern. Your theory of bioparticles and quantum kinematics helped this one a lot,” Darcy points her thumb at Jane.

“ _Really_? Dr. Foster, you never mentioned you used my thesis.” Bruce crosses his arms and looks at Jane with growing interest.

The warrior woman—Valkyrie, Darcy recalls—rolls her eyes and sheaths her sword. “Well if that’s all, I’ll be at the bar.”

“We don’t have a bar,” Bruce frowns.

Valkyrie smiles cryptically and strides to the door.

“Excuse me,” Thor says quietly, and follows suit out of the room. Darcy watches him leave, the questions in her mind escalating the longer she lingers on them.

**-:-**

The people of Asgard that Darcy has spoken to have all agreed on one, consistent thing: Asgard was beautiful.

Before coming to Norway Darcy already had a working knowledge of Asgard, on account of Jane’s journey to and from the realm. She knew there was a bridge the color of rainbow lights, of a glittering sky speckled with stars that overlooked the edge of the world. She knew the palace was made of gold and was lustrous and rich with jewels—but of all the things she was told, nothing is more beautiful to Darcy than what she sees here, in this secret pocket of Asgard.

For one, not every Asgardian has the ability of Allspeak; in fact, most civilians do not know it or care for it as much as the higher royal class does. Because of this, Darcy has encountered a language that is melodious and rich, and definitely nothing she’s heard before. It is smooth and rolls easily off the tongue, and phonetically similar enough for Darcy to start picking up phrases— _gerlah_ for food, _hailleth_ for king. She hears these two the most—the third most is, of course, _dregg_ , the word for ale.

She’s conversing with broken words and gestures with a seamstress when Thor finally appears from the spaceship and before his people to announce his current predicament, and the possible longevity of it. It’s definitely interesting, hearing Thor switch into his native language so easily. Darcy watches the people all pause in their work and look to Thor, taking in the tail and the hooves and all things generally centaur-ish. She expects a collective gasp, some recoiling, but much to her amusement none of these come. Instead, she sees Vereda the Seamstress roll her eyes and say with exasperated fondness, “Min _hailleth.”_

Darcy smiles slowly. “This happen a lot?”

Vereda chuckles. “Since _born_.”

Darcy watches Thor raise a fist and the people around her begin to clap. Darcy waves her hand and Thor catches her eye, flashing her a bright smile. Darcy bids goodbye to Vereda and weaves her way through the crowd of people, until she finally reaches where Thor stands at the entrance of the spaceship.

“Darcy,” Thor greets.

“Mind if I walk with you?”

Thor gives a welcoming gesture for her to join him. The walk is silent, save for the soft sound of Thor’s hooves clip-clopping on the grass. They stop at the edge of the cliff, and wind whips back Darcy’s hair as they gaze at the sea.

“How do you find the people of Asgard?” Thor asks.

“In a word? Amazing. In more than a word? I really kind of wish I had seen Asgard before it…”

“Exploded into its own star system?” Thor offers. The smile he gives is bitter, wistful.

Darcy nods, slowly. “I’ve been talking a little bit with the people here, and got bits and pieces of what went down.” She looks at Thor, eyes flickering over the circular plate that covers his right eye. “What happened, Thor?”

Thor exhales softly, meeting her gaze. “If I tell you, we will be here for some time.”

“Lucky for us, I’ve got all the time in the world. Why don’t we sit?”

Thor grimaces. “I haven’t, ah…actually worked out how to sit in this form yet.”

Darcy eyes his four legs thoughtfully. “I think I know a way.”

Forty minutes, four horseshoes, and three tankards of ale later (Darcy is still sipping the first one), Thor walks Darcy through what happened in the last few months. The least surprising of all this is the existence of Hela, to which Darcy remarks, “Well I mean, your dad does have a habit of not telling the whole truth about anything, so…”

Thor, now settled down on the grass with his centaur legs tucked underneath him, swirls the ale in his tankard thoughtfully. “My father raised me. Taught me what I know. And yet I clearly knew nothing of him. Not from his great battles, not from our history. The history was a lie.”

“Was it?”

“Was it not?”

“I don’t know the history, I didn’t grow up on Asgard. But…maybe it was always there. Maybe, when you were younger, you read what you wanted see and didn’t read between the lines. Maybe the truth was always there and you didn’t realize.”

“Loki knew,” Thor says, his voice quiet. “Both of us were adventurous and ambitious, but where I took things at face value Loki would turn it on its head. I suspect even if we had not ventured to Jotunheim all those years ago, he would have realized he was a Frost Giant soon enough.”

“How does that work by the way?” Darcy wonders. “Nobody has ever seen him in that form, from what I’ve heard.”

Thor smirks and sets down his tankard on the grass. “Nobody sees Loki in any other way than what he wants them to see. His magic is strong; I’ve heard only in passing from Loki himself that the only times he changed to his birth form was when touched by a Frost Giant, or when handling the Casket of Winters—a relic of Jotunheim.”

“So you’ve never seen him as a Frost Giant?”

“Never. Nor will we ever, I suspect. You’d have to be a true madman to return to Jotunheim, and as of eight months ago the Casket of Winters was destroyed along with the rest of Asgard.”

Darcy nods, drinking deeply from the ale. She’s getting a pleasant buzz from it now; it is definitely a lot stronger than anything she’s had before. “How long have you been here in Norway?”

“Almost two weeks now,” Thor admits. “You can see now why the reason behind the urgency for your request. Loki and I need to visit the realms and find a suitable relocation for our people. The Bifröst machine is our only method now.”

Darcy nods thoughtfully. “I mean…potentially…you could just stay put. Right here? Couldn’t you?”

“On Midgard?”

“Would it be so bad?” Darcy glances around at their resplendent scenery. “You picked a really nice spot to land.”

Thor nods reluctantly. “It is a good place to start. However…” Thor looks at Darcy firmly. “I mean no offense by this, Darcy, but your planet is not always the kindest to migrants, let alone visitors from space. I think it best we continue searching the realms, and let our people rest safely here while we find a new home.”

“Fair enough,” Darcy concedes. Shifting the mood, Darcy sets down her tankard and lifts an eyebrow at Thor. “So, your new crew has Bruce Banner and a warrior named Valkyrie, huh?”

Thor beams immediately, a proud grin spreading on his face. “They are most trusted and loyal friends,” Thor says earnestly. “Truthfully, I never thought Banner and I would become so close—but now I consider him a lifelong friend.”

“And Valkyrie? Is this exactly what I’m thinking Valkyries are or…?”

“You have heard of Valkyries?” Thor’s eyes light up.

“The ultimate warrior? Hell yeah, we have that concept here too,” Darcy grins at the doofy look Thor gets just before draining the last of his ale.

“She is…like no other.” Thor smiles. Darcy tilts her head, a similar smile quirking her lips, and Thor clears his throat hastily.

“There is also Korg and Miek, two friends made as comrades in the Grandmaster’s arena. Then there’s Loki, of course; Selna the Destroyer, whose tale of her banishment from Svartalheim after a brutal betrayal from her sister moved me so deeply. The twins Amra and Mrord of Àlfheim—they are very distant and keep to themselves, but do not let that sway you in thinking they are not the kindest creatures you’ve ever beheld. They may do as they please, even if they never wish to share their story, they are the truest and noblest friends…”

Darcy smiles into her tankard as Thor recounts all of his new friends and new adventures, the ocean turning softly into the cliff face below.

**-:-**

Loki has not paced a room in nearly two decades, but tonight his control snaps.

If Mother were still alive, she’d chide him softly. _You’re showing exactly what’s on your mind, darling. Do not give anyone advantage of weakness._

It does not help that every time he makes a step on the blasted spaceship floor, an echoing _clap-clap_ resounds in the air. It mocks him. Loki grits his teeth and revises possible options once more.

Return to Vanaheim to undo the enchantment? Loki immediately dismisses this one. Putting Loki on Vanaheim will only result in him ending several lives, none of which will bring him closer to his regular form.

Consult the Midgardian wizard he and Thor had encountered when collecting Odin?

Loki chuckles derisively. He would rather be plunged into a goblin bog than speak with that man ever again.

He is left with the only viable option: attempt to break the curse himself.

Despite his better judgment, Loki inhales deeply and goes perfectly still. Facing the mirror in his quarters, Loki stares at his form. With a twitch of his fingers he banishes the sad attempt at clothing he’d stuffed over himself, baring himself before the mirror. He tries not to recoil at the thick hair sprawling along his elbows and completely obscuring his legs. His jaw tightens at the hooves, and quickly blinks back up to meet his own eyes in the mirror.

At least _that_ has remained untouched.

Closing his eyes, Loki lets his body relax. He goes through several calming breaths, expelling negative energy and inhaling positive energy just as his mother had taught him. Basic exercises to break an advanced curse is not an unheard of concept, and Loki prays this will work this time.

Faintly, ever so faintly, Loki feels the ebb and flow of his magic surrounding him. It is small, dimly flickering, as if a dark cloud were choking the life out of it. Concentrating on this, Loki gently reaches for the energy.

The dark clouds of magic snap at him violently and his grasp on his own magic shrivels and shrinks. Loki’s eyes fly open, gasping for air as he leans his palms against the wall.

“Damn,” he mutters. Clenching his fist, Loki pushes off from the wall and strides out of the room, in search of Thor.

There is a high chance Loki will see him and immediately hit his good eye. Considering what he did—or rather, failed to do—on Vanaheim, Loki thinks it will be much deserved.

He brushes past someone along the corridor and mutters a quick ‘pardon me’ before looking down to see Korg, who offers him a small smile.

“Ah, that’s no problem, friend. Good to see you in higher spirits again.”

Loki quirks an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

Korg shrugs, his smile waning. “Dunno. It’d be nice if everyone was in higher spirits, though.”

Loki pauses, in earnest this time, and assesses Korg as his eyes flicker over the newly humanoid form. “And how are you faring with this new….form?”

“A very nice seamstress offered to fit me with new armor,” Korg glances down himself, patting the fitted leather strap over his chest and the new trousers. “Don’t look too bad, considering.”

“Do you know where Thor is right now?”

“He was talking with Jane last I saw, in the laboratory.”

Loki gives a curt nod and continues down the hall, not hearing when Korg says thoughtfully, “But that was hours ago when we came back from Vanaheim, I doubt he’d still be there…”

Loki bursts through the laboratory with full intent to lay into Thor once again on how utterly _fucked_ they are in their current predicament, and demanding answers of what else could possibly be done—yet the words die on his lips when he sees who is in the room.

“Where is Thor?” he demands.

The brunette from earlier stares at him from above her glasses. Her hands still over the generator she’s crouched before, and she folds her arms. “No idea.”

Loki looks away, displeased. “Have you tried his room?” The girl asks, innocently enough that Loki doesn’t immediately scowl at her.

“What are you doing here? I thought you fixed the Bifröst already.”

“I did.” Darcy gestures at the generator. “I wanted to fix it a little more. The, you know…time lapse between jumps? It’s at sixty seconds and I wanted to make it less. Maybe if it had been less, then…”

Understanding fills Loki’s gaze, and his previous irritation starts slowly fading. “A kind sentiment,” Loki says, waving his hand dismissively, “but unnecessary. No, our fate was sealed when my dear, sweet brother took matters into his own hands.”

“Right,” the girl rests her chin atop a closed fist, her expression thoughtful. “He said you fought valiantly. That must’ve been something to witness.”

That gives Loki pause. “What did you say your name was?”

The ship gives a sudden, great lurch, sending Loki and Darcy hurtling forward. Darcy collides into the generator, her hands scrambling along the surface instinctively. Loki struggles to regain his footing in his damnable faun form, his eyes darting around the room curiously.

“The engines aren’t on. We shouldn’t have moved.” Loki carefully takes a step forward, but the ship lurches again. Darcy yelps when she’s thrown backward and Loki stumbles toward her, attempting and failing at balancing himself.

“What the hell is this?” Darcy carefully moves on her hands and knees when a great, whirring vibration sounds in the air.

“ _Are_ the engines on?” Loki wonders aloud. Why in Valhalla would they be on? What was Thor plotting now?

“That’s not the engine.”

Loki glances at Darcy, his eyes following her petrified stare, and landing squarely on the Bifröst machine.

Loki’s eyes widen, and they meet Darcy’s for a fraction of a second. Both of them move—Darcy in a desperate lunge to undo the generator’s actions, Loki to get _far away_ —but neither have a chance before rainbow lights shower around them and pull them out of the laboratory, hurtling them into space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, thank you _so_ much for the incredible, welcoming response on chapter one! Honestly, I feel so lucky to be part of such a wonderful corner of fandom here. 
> 
> A huge thank you to [Sigridhr](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigridhr/works) for being the very best friend I could ever ask for, who looked this chapter over and beta'd it to perfection. 
> 
> I drew a tiny little [sketch](http://amidtheflowers.tumblr.com/post/167916432359/humanoidkorg-so-i-may-or-may-not-be-in-love-with) of what I think humanoid!Korg would look like in this fic; clearly my love of Taika Waititi knows no bounds... 
> 
> Until chapter 3 xx


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